Quietly, all the drawers were pulled out of the bureau and turned upside down. Clothes and undergarments were spread all over the floor with no result. The bed covers were torn off and the mattress flipped over but again he found nothing. It was the same in the living room, no secret wall safe behind the paintings and nothing in the cushions of the sofa or recliner. Every room on the main floor including the broom closet and the bathroom was ransacked but still he found no cash.
Frustrated and getting mad, desperation set in. Because she could not handle stairs he understood that it was no use looking in the basement or the attic. That left only one other room. A careful hand opened Gary’s bedroom door and to his delight discovered that his bed was empty. His dresser received the same rude treatment as did his bed and mattress. Still, he was just as poor as when he entered the house. Knowing that he was alone in the house, he closely inspected all the walls, knocking on them listening for a hollow. Some of the loose panels were torn off the wall only to reveal plaster.
By the time he was ready to give up, he was irate and thinking seriously of revenge. It was not the house he wanted but rather the property. The house meant nothing to him. If there was no fortune hidden in it, it had no value. Standing in the hall at the bottom of the stairs to the attic, he reached into his pocket for the matches. He was stopped short when from up in the attic he heard,
“Hello? Is anybody there?”
Frozen to the spot, he was not sure if he should run out of the house or just stand still. Clearly he was not alone in the house. He heard it again,
“Hello?”
One of the things that made him brave was that it was a girl’s voice. If it were a man or even the old lady he would have been long gone and speeding away in his truck. Feeling that he would be able to control the situation, he pulled the gun out from his belt and pointed it up the narrow stairs.
When opening the door to the attic he was surprised to find it dark. Why would a little girl be in a dark attic? A scanning flashlight located the usual objects including the mannequin standing in the middle of the room. Because the mannequin was only a silhouette he thought it was the old lady and quickly reached back for his gun. The silencer muffled the two quick shots aimed at its midsection. When it refused to fall over, he inspected it closer and only then realized he had been scared by and killed a mannequin.
After recovering a few deep breaths and a racing heart had slowed back down, he again heard,
“Hello?”
While frantically scanning the light beam through the attic he voiced an inquisitive,
“Who is it? Where are you?”
Again the eerie voice echoed,
“Hello?”
Spinning around and wildly scanning the light, he found the attic empty, at least of a little girl. He located the string hanging from the ceiling light and turned it on. It was only then that he saw Gary’s strange and complicated collection of electric and computer components on the table.
While looking at it, confused about its purpose, what he did not see behind him was the rolling motion of everything in the attic. The mannequin ignored the bullet holes in her midsection and started its macabre dance. The stack of newspapers danced to a different tune. The young girl’s disembodied voice again asked,
“Hello?”
It was only then that he realized her voice was coming from the speakers. On closer inspection of the computer parts he realized they were the motherboards stolen from the Factory. Just as he was starting to understand that there was nothing scary in the attic after all, he was suddenly startled by a different and frantic girl’s voice from the speakers calling for help.
“Dad! Help me. You said you would help me.”
Confused, he spoke to the computer parts and asked,
“Where are you?”
“Dad! I’m in the Factory.”
Most experienced criminals have a sixth sense of danger. It stems from heightened senses and a fear of getting caught. While staring at the contraption, trying to understand the cryptic message, he felt an uncanny tingling in the back of his neck. It felt as if somebody had snuck up and gently run a feather across his skin. Snapping around, he was startled to see everything in the attic was swaying. It was something his mind could not accept or reconcile as anywhere near sane. He felt as if he was trapped in a strange void and an undulating world was pulling him apart. It was when seeing the mannequin move, as his confused state saw it, coming at him with a most evil intent that the rest of the ammunition was quickly emptied into Ruth’s mannequin.
Fear screamed at him to escape. Wobbly legs somehow managed to carry a contorted Rick past dancing twisting newspapers and across the attic floor to the safety of the door. In his haste he missed the first step and while bouncing off the narrow walls tumbled all the way down. He kicked open the front door and didn’t stop running until he reached the safety of his truck. As the paranormal activities in the attic settled and the mannequin was finished her macabre dance, a nightmarish scream of horrific pain echoed through the attic followed by,
“Dad? Dad? Where are you?”
Chapter 29
While Rick parked his truck in front of Ruth’s house in search of a hidden cache, like prisoners Sam and Gary were escorted out of Warric’s office and led to their doom. Although promised to be released if they cooperated, Sam was leery. Gary, while sandwiched between the security guards trusted the promise and walked with a glow of contentment. They had a real adventure, one filled with danger and excitement. It was an adrenalin rush he had only experienced in his imagination. And now being sent home, the danger part behind him, he felt energized and wanted more. What was going to happen to them next would make his past adventure seem like a pleasant Sunday afternoon walk in the park.
When they reached the elevator and Sam saw that one of the guards had pressed the ‘down’ button she knew they were in trouble. If they were really going to be released, they would be going up. Suspicion had now turned to fact. They were going in the wrong direction. Gary, like in his school back in Lexington, stood proud and straight with head held high. Loaded with gullibility, he thought it had been a real and brave day. When the elevator stopped and led through a maze of tunnels, like before, Sam tried to memorize their direction but again, it soon became an impossible feat.
There was something different about these tunnels. As Sam saw it, something was very wrong. The tunnel wall was pulsing in and out as if breathing. She noticed that their guards had picked up the pace trying to get past the anomaly as quickly as possible. Her suspicion was confirmed when one of the guards rudely demanded,
“Come on, get moving. We can’t stop here.”
Gary was rudely pushed from behind and almost fell.
About half way through the strange breathing tunnel, Sam began to feel sick. Her head was spinning and she was fighting the urge to vomit. Because she had slowed down, the guard also pushed her hard. It was a bad move on his part for as she was pushed, her weak rubbery legs collapsed. She fell to the floor and while on all fours started to throw up. There was urgency on the guards to keep moving and so one of them roughly grabbed her by an arm and dragged her along. He was afraid and snapped,
“We can’t stop here.”
Gary, seeing Sam’s mistreatment did something unexpected. He lunged at the guard while yelling,
“Leave her alone!”
Because they were desperate to move Sam along, Gary had free reign to punch and kick the guards while still yelling at them not to hurt her. All the while the guards were persistently dragging Sam through what they considered the ‘danger zone’. Finally away from it, Gary was again restrained and Sam was able to stand and walk by her own power.
After another turn and another tunnel, a large steel door was seen a few feet ahead. The guard used a security card to swipe the door open. The cavernous room was well lit and busy with many scientists. The second Sam realised that it was a laboratory she snapped around and attempted an impossible escape. The gua
rd anticipated the fear and a vice grip on her arm spun her back around to face the music. Marched into the laboratory, closer to equipment that she did not recognize although looked suspiciously like medical implements, she turned to Gary and whispered,
“If you get a chance, run.”
Surprised, Gary looked at her and asked why?
Before she had a chance to object or avoid it, a syringe was plunged deep into her neck. Gary saw what happened but before he could react, he too felt the sting of a needle. Sam felt a warm feeling flow through her that was not unlike slipping into a warm soothing bath. She was alert to the danger and wanted to run but her legs would not obey the command. Nothing was at her command, not feet, arms or body. Gary was the same. As they stood there frozen to the spot, one of the scientists ask a guard,
“Which one is first?”
The guard pointed to Sam and with only an alert mind, all Gary could do was stand and watch her being carried over to a gurney under the bright lights.
Like bee drones attending to the queen bee, Gary saw that she was quickly surrounded by white smocks all busy doing something to her. When some moved away, he saw the horrific sight that was Sam. She was covered in what he thought were suction cups from head to toe but most were attached to her head. Wires from the sensors lifted high and disappeared into some sort of shiny glass ball hanging from the ceiling. He saw by the terror in her eyes that she was probably as scared as he was. He then saw one of the scientists walk over to a computer panel and a weak humming sound was heard throughout the lab. Another scientist suddenly turned to Gary and said to a guard,
“Get this one ready.”
Suddenly the joy of a real adventure flew from Gary. What was happening to him could not be turned off by simply opening his eyes and joining reality. Horror struck him hard. This was a painful reality. Because he could not feel being lifted onto another gurney, in his alert mind it felt like he floated onto it. Now on his back, shifting eyes saw that he was on a gurney next to Sam. Her fearful look of horror had not diminished. Suddenly he too was surrounded by white smocks busy attaching suction cups to him in the same manner as Sam.
Filled with the same fear, with his head turned toward her he started to question if this was real or just imagining everything. To his great surprise, Sam slowly drifted up off the table. Like a magician’s illusion of a woman defying gravity, she floated perhaps four feet above the table. It slowly came to him that because he was not looking up at her, rather straight across, he too must also have floated up off his gurney. He heard the strange droning sound again. While looking over at the floating Sam, he tried his best to convey a message that everything will be alright and not to be as scared as he was. Although he could think the words and wanted to yell them over to her, no sound left his open mouth.
Sam, while looking over to Gary looked confused. She somehow sensed his words of comfort but did not see his mouth move. She heard one of the scientists say,
“Okay, let’s test the female first.”
Another man pressed a switch and suddenly Sam snapped as ridged as a board. Unspeakable pain raced through her body. In his head he heard her horrific screaming. From his ears he heard one of the scientist say,
“Fire up test subject two.”
Suddenly Gary too snapped as stiff as a board. His mouth opened but his screams of tortuous pain, like Sam only echoed in his brain.
In her head, Sam saw lightning bolts as if a booming thunderstorm was mad at her and firing thousands of electrical bolts into her brain. In her mind she called for the only person she knew who would come charging into the laboratory on a great white steed and save her.
“Dad! Help me. You said you would come for me.”
There was more unbearable pain and more screaming for help.
“Dad! I’m in the Factory and I need you.”
It was the exact same frantic plea for help that Rick heard when up in Gary’s attic.
Chapter 30
To Sam’s dad, it didn’t matter if it was day or night, the concept of twenty-four hours a day was meaningless to him. Since discovering the cave of crystals and seeing his two co-workers disappear into solid stone, everything in his life was just one long tortuous hour after hour. No days, no nights, just waking up screaming and making the pain go away by drinking. Everything was a blur of nothing. He only had two rational thoughts left to his rattled mind. One was for Gloria his wife whom he knew he was torturing by what was happening to him. The other was Sam. He would do anything to stop their pain. Thoughts of suicide had been considered, anything to set them both free of the torment he was putting them through.
As in most nights, it happened again. He couldn’t stand to see the pain he was causing Gloria and so pulled the covers aside and tried his best to sneak out of the bedroom without waking her. Her eyes slowly opened to see him quietly close the door behind him. She was at the end of her emotional rope. She had already made up her mind that if he was not going to do anything about it, then she was. This was it. Tomorrow she would pack her bags, grab Sam and drive to her mother’s place across town.
It was hard for Gordy to control a body only half in this world and half goodness knows where else. Walking in this state was near impossible. It felt as if he would be better off floating from place to place. In the bathroom he looked in the mirror and saw a horrific face made of glass. He saw right through it. He dropped to his knees and with head buried in the toilet he vomited out what he was sure was the only solid substance in his body. Half walking and floating through the hall and past the bedroom door, he heard Gloria crying.
Managing the stairs as best a semi-solid man could, he made it to the kitchen table, to the bottle waiting there for him. He learned a long time ago not to put the cap on the scotch. When one hand was as air, he could not get the cap off. With one good hand, he managed great gulps of the medicine. Leaning back in the chair and while relishing the numbness, he heard Sam’s voice. It was as clear as if it were yelled into his ear.
“Dad! Help me. You said you would come for me.”
Because of his mental instability, he assumed his daughter was calling for help from her bedroom. That is until he heard,
“Dad! I’m in the Factory and I need you.”
Chapter 31
Warric sat in his office feeling good about the additional funding for the project. The first billion or so had not been misappropriated so much as squandered on projects yielding no results, or as the worm of an accountant Otto Schmidt might have said, yielding no profit. There had been too many mistakes. By not yet understanding the power of the crystals and the symbiotic relationship to the copper and the river surging though an underground tunnel the budget was gone.
What Otto Schmidt did not understand was that much of the testing and analyzes of the collected data had to be farmed out to laboratories throughout the world. The cost of analyzes itself was not so prohibitive as much as the cost of their silence. This was after all a top secret laboratory funded by the IIC and private investors. Any government involved with this project would be forced to shut down if the public learned that certain children were being experimented on. Utmost secrecy was mandatory. Nobody outside of the Factory would approve of kidnapping and torturing children for profit.
He was rudely knocked out of his gratifying reverie by a rap on the office door. When the green light gave permission to enter, a scientist in a white smock entered. Walking up to Warric’s desk he seemed dejected to report,
“I’m sorry sir but neither of those two children proved positive for the specific synergy boost we are looking for and we cannot continue the project with only three children. As so often reported, we desperately need more gifted children.”
Although devastated, for he had placed a lot of faith in the two new hopefuls, he did not show his disappointment to the scientist. He simply and rudely waved him out of his office.
Filled with both disappointment and confusion, he sat back in his chair and pondered the setback. His
biggest question involved the two brats. If they were not connected to the same synergy that Amina was projecting, then how did they hear her calling to them in the attic? If they were telling the truth, and it was plain that they were, for they knew her name and that she was here, how was that connection made? As best as possible he ran the two children’s interrogation through his memory trying to connect the dots. After a few more minutes it all started to make sense.
Through the intercom he called for his most trusted personal guard. If there ever was a true Aryan race, Hanz was the carbon copy of that image. He stood in front of Warric’s desk, six feet tall, blond hair and blue eyes. Even standing at ease, he gave the physical impression that a Mac truck racing toward him could not knock him over. As he stood waiting for orders, Warric said,
The Factory Page 17